


stay with me, reckless

by absurdiist (workthewentz)



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Mankind Divided
Genre: Adam is an idiot, But we know this and we love him anyway, CASIE is a character and i will treat her as such, Dvali die mercilessly, Fuck canon compliance, I'm not sure if this needs an archive warning, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Slow Burn, everyone is dramatic, to be on the safe side
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24301711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/workthewentz/pseuds/absurdiist
Summary: Adam discovers something regarding Koller in Otar Botkoveli's possession that puts them both in danger. Justice is swift-footed – and has augmented limbs.
Relationships: Adam Jensen/Vaclav Koller, Background Adam Jensen/Francis Pritchard
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As is par for the course with me, this fic is unbeta-ed. I don't own the characters, just the plot, any similarity to any real persons living or dead is purely coincidental, [vaclav koller voice] all that cool shit. 
> 
> CONTENT WARNINGS: While I do not go into detail, this fic contains references to non-consensual oral sex, as well as photos of it used as blackmail by and for various characters. Also, violence, but nothing that's worse than the games themselves. 
> 
> Title taken from Stampede by Tor Miller, a fantastically sad song that gives you the feeling of rain soaking into your bones.

Red and gold. More red and more gold. Fleur de lis curtains and lewd photos of women – what a classy combination – hung from each wall. Adam had already cracked the safe in the corner, finding nothing of too much value inside. Otar's revolver weighed heavy in his coat pocket and smacked against his leg as he circled the desk. Otar himself lay incapacitated downstairs next to the rest of his goons, thanks to the Typhoon. His computer sat on the desk, locked and password protected of course. Adam sat and allowed his hacking augs to focus themselves. He noted that they could use an upgrade as he captured and nuked his way to the green sphere. Green means good, Pritchard would have snarked. But this was Prague, not Detroit, and he and Frank were no longer on speaking terms. Adam did his best to ignore the instrusive thoughts of his former... whatever they were. Instead he scrolled through Otar Botkoveli's computer, collecting as much data as he could. 

  
The emails were nothing special: shipping logs, keypad codes, information he already knew. One intriguing conversation lay buried in the emails, though, between Otar and his second-in-command Vano. Vano wanted to know why Otar was so interested in the activities of one Vaclav Koller. "Radich has a hard-on for this guy," Botkoveli had written. "I wanna know why. Something's not right between them." 

  
There had been a datastore next to the final node Adam needed to capture. "Sensitive information uncovered," the little robotic voice had said. So out of curiosity he used Otar's computer to open his media database and access it. 

  
His breath caught in his throat as he scrolled through the thumbnails he'd opened. Some of them were safe, but others were not. "Dvali internal politics," Koller had said. "I'm gonna get it sorted." But this didn't look like getting it sorted. 

  
Adam clicked on one of the safe ones. Koller faced towards a camera, hidden based on the angle and the distorted edges. He held a soldering iron in his hand, working at something in someone's upper arm out of frame. Adam scrolled to the next photo. The man Koller had been working on turned at an angle towards the camera. His paper pale skin drew back against his face, making him appear thin. His hair so blond it was almost white, coupled with his wide nose and assessing eyes, made him appear almost birdlike. But an unmistakable air of danger radiated off of him. As Adam assessed Koller's expression, he realized that he'd never seen Koller express genuine fear before now. 

  
The next photo made Adam's stomach twist and his breathing quicken. His heart rate accelerated so his Sentinel began assessing for possible damage. He clicked away from it, turning his head so fast it dizzied him. He squeezed his eyes shut against it, but the image of Radich forcing Koller onto his knees burned behind his eyelids. His protective instinct kicked in and the fierceness of it shocked him. Before he could let himself get angry enough for his blood to boil, he left the casino. If he put his nanoblade through the hard drive, that was his business. And if he considered tossing a frag grenade behind him as he shut the door, no one needed to know. He had decided against it anyway. 

  
After the murkiness of the sewer, the harsh light outside distracted Adam. His eye shields blocked out the outside world, but he wasn't too comfortable being alone with his thoughts, either. He recalled what Louis Gallois had explained to him back inside Golem City. He and Koller kept an eye on Otar to prevent him from overthrowing Radich Nikoladze. Otar seemed to have something on Radich, something big. Adam figured this was the big secret. The Dvali were a anti-aug group. The leader carrying augmentations was enough to cause unrest within the entire organization. Adam thought for a moment about leaking the information somehow. He still had his Samizdat contacts, and he knew K would love to take his call. The aftermath would likely mean a power grab – it would take little effort to find Radich.

  
Adam caught himself, stopping in his tracks. He wasn't sure where he was heading, which meant he wasn't thinking. His feet pointed towards Monument Station, towards the Prekazka district and Koller's shop. But there was no logical reason to get involved in this. Yet he couldn't stop thinking about the photo he'd seen, how strange he felt about Nikoladze. He wanted to find him, confront him, maybe put a nanoblade through his throat. 

  
There were other, more important things to get to. He just had to steel himself long enough to get through them. 

Vaclav slept with an old car battery hung haphazardly on the wall next to the pullout couch in his dungeon. A mess of wires connected his cranial implants to the battery so it could charge them while he slept. It would be an efficient process, if it didn't trigger something in his amygdala that made him relive his worst memories while he slept.

  
The weapon against his temple was cold. Out of the corner of his eye, the heavyset man – Otar, he'd introduced himself before pressing a gun to Vaclav's skull – smirked. Vaclav froze in place, trying not to show his discomfort, trying not to get fucking shot. 

  
On the edge of the desk in Koller's office sat Radich Nikoladze, a white-haired man with a wide nose and high cheekbones. He was too thin, thinner even than Koller, and Vaclav tried not to tremble against his stare. Stories circulated about the Dvali coming to collect at various underground businesses in Prague. But he never thought he'd become one of them. 

  
"In exchange for us looking the other way, excusing your business," Radich explained with a sneer. "You will provide twenty percent of your income monthly. Any orders come through our organization." Vaclav only vaguely registered the words, focusing instead on maintaining his stillness. Giving Otar any reason to pull the trigger would mean certain death. He'd designed his health implants; they were advanced, but not bullet-to-the-brain advanced. "We will not ask twice. Understood, aug?" 

Koller blanched, unsure if he could nod or speak. What would happen if he moved? Otar nudged him , pointedly, with the silver barrel of his gun. "He asked if you understand, uyobok."   
Vaclav flinched at the insult. "Yes, yes, I-I understand," he whispered. 

  
There was a grating sound, stone on stone, and then – "Koller?" someone called into the dungeon, cutting into his dream. He jerked awake, shrinking into the mattress. Realizing it had been a nightmare did less to comfort him than he wanted.

But the voice belonged to Jensen, so he forced himself up. He stood in front of the bed, arms hanging heavy by his sides, watching as Adam rounded the corner. He'd come in through the sewer entrance, then. 

"Jensen," Vaclav greeted, dragging out Adam's last name as he always did. His forced enthusiasm sounded fake, even to his own ears. "Not - not that I don't welcome the company, man, but why are you here? Should I... Did I forget an appointment, or something?"

"I can't visit my doctor now?" Adam said, sly. His deadpan voice held traces of amusement as he took in Koller's bedhead and tired, raspy voice. 

"I don't know if you forgot how doctors work, man, but usually you show up after shit happens, not before." Vaclav cracked a smile, his dream already fading from his mind like a bad memory. Adam may have been terrifying, but he had a sense of humor. The technician rotated his wrists, shaking the sleep out of his joints. "Don't you have some saving-the-world shit to do? Testing those crazy implants of yours?" 

"Well since you're so busy, I guess this can wait," Adam snarked as he shrugged off his trench coat. He turned his arm over so the tech could see the inside of his wrist. Koller gasped, dramatic as always, and took Adam's hand in his own. His eyes were wide.

"Jesus, Jensen. You know I don't like to ask questions, man – but... how long has your arm been like this?" Adam shrugged.

"A few hours," he said, pointedly ignoring Vaclav's hidden inquiry. He'd gotten used to the pain, really.

Vaclav turned his back and stepped over to the chair, and Adam followed, knowing the drill by now. His CASIE implant flickered to life, giving him data about Koller's voice tonality, the tension in his shoulders. Worry. 

"Doesn't it hurt?" Vaclav knew the answer to the question before he asked it. No matter the aug, exposed wiring meant stabbing pain all the way down to the nervous system. Not to mention the possibility of electric shock. This must have been a serious injury. 

"A little," Adam defended. 

Koller scoffed. "Ha! A little," he mimicked, deepening his voice to match the operative's. "Next time, why don't you start with that? Or use the infolink, so I'll already be awake." 

Jensen didn't know what to say to that, so he crossed his leg over the chair, settling in. He watched through his glasses as Koller tinkered with his wrist, plugging wires back into place. At some point he lost his focus, comforted by the sound of the whirring and the occasional buzz of the soldering iron housed in Vaclav's hand. He tipped his head back and retracted his eye shields, letting himself rest. 

After a moment the sounds stopped, and the dungeon went silent. Koller cleared his throat to get the other man's attention. Adam opened his eyes, finding that he couldn't see the wiring anymore. He flexed the muscles in his hand and curled his fingers into a fist, before raising an impressed eyebrow at Koller. "Thank you." His voice came out gruff, but softer than he intended.

"Aw, don't worry about it, man," Koller replied distractedly. He was still staring at Adam's hand curled around the armrest of the chair. "Just-just stop getting your system fried, okay? I won't be able to replace that sweet Sarif tech, unless you want arms like mine." Vaclav raised his gaze to meet Adam's own, and he resisted the urge to hide behind his glasses. Koller's hair hung over his eyes in a mess of waves. His lips quirked upward at the corners. 

Adam had to avert his eyes, hating what was going to come out of his mouth next. 

"I, I have to show you something." 

Vaclav's expression had gone through the entirety of the five stages of grief in about four seconds flat. Then he repeated them with his body. A vial of neuropozyne and one of the holographic displays had taken some damage from stage two – anger. Now acceptance was settling in as he sunk down onto the pullout bed. All in all, Vaclav's reaction was better than Adam's. He hadn't mentioned killing anyone... yet.

He looked up at Adam from his hunched position, eyes bloodshot red. Adam stared back at him through his eye shields – he'd slid them back into position when Koller started throwing things.  
"I think those are the only copies," Adam offered. He was unused to comforting people, a stranger even to comforting himself. He knew the empty platitudes, questions he wanted to ask wouldn't help.

"You found the photos with Otar?" Koller asked, shivering and miserable. Adam shrugged and nodded, uncomfortable. He opened his mouth, then shut it again. Vaclav soldiered on. "My rep could be ruined, man. My shop-"

A rumbling sound and a loud pop interrupted Koller before he had the chance to continue. Warnings flashed on Adam's HUD: an explosion, right above their heads. The ceiling shook with the impact. Koller looked up at him, eyes wide. "What the fuck was that?"

Adam activated his MAGPIE implants, scanning the shop above them for any abnormalities. He noted three cars, three men inside each, on the street outside the Time Machine. The front of the bookshop was on fire. "We need to go, now." He felt his adrenaline spiking. If it was up to him, the Dvali men would be dead before they knew anyone was inside. But Koller- 

"What do you need me to do?" he asked, stunning Adam as he retrieved a stun gun from behind his computer. He slid an ammo pack into one of his lab coat pockets and a pocket secretary into the other. He bent to reach over his bed and slid a photo frame up, exposing a terminal. He put in the passcode, then switched the terminal to the ON position. With a loud, prolonged screeching noise, two heavy steel doors slid into place in front of the elevator. Vaclav winced. "I don't get much use out of those. But I need to look out for my shop." 

If not for the severity of the situation, Adam would have been impressed. He pegged Koller for the reckless endangerment type – act now, think later. But his nerves eased seeing the protective measures Koller had taken.

"Just stay close," Adam instructed. He felt his SWAT training coming to the forefront of his mind. These days he worked alone, but having someone there to watch his back, someone to protect, comforted him, even if Koller was less... bulky, than others he'd worked with. But the technician was smart, which was sometimes better.

As they reached the top of the ladder leading out of the manhole, Adam resisted the urge to activate his glass-cloaking system. He'd rather they see him than Koller. They crawled out of the manhole together and hunkered down near the concrete wall. There were two men at each gate, and the rest were hovering around the front of the shop. Hoping to smoke Koller out, then.

Sticking to the edge of the wall, Adam peeked around the corner to the gate leading towards the metro station. He held his hand out and clenched his fist, the TESLA beams springing to life and capturing their targets. The electric waves captured the two men and they cried out, dropping their weapons and crumpling to the ground. Adam spun, checking to ensure the sound hadn't attracted any of the others. Koller sucked in an impressed breath but otherwise kept quiet, his excitement at seeing Jensen's experimental augs come to life dampened by the smell of burnt paper and firewood – his bookshop, burning behind them.

The two men crept along the side wall, sticking to the shadows in their escape attempt. They were less than five feet from the gate when one of the Dvali yelled, "Hey!" A bullet whizzed past Adam's shoulder, nearly slicing Koller's eyebrow open. In a split-second decision, Adam pushed him through the gate and swung it shut. 

"What-"

"Zelen Apartments, top floor on the right. Go!" Adam barked. Koller hesitated for a moment, but his protest died on his lips once he remembered who Adam was. What he was capable of. Koller took off running and Adam spun, watching as the seven little red dots on his HUD rushed towards his position. He activated his glass cloak and crouched, making his way back down the steps towards the Time Machine. Two of the little figures rushed past him and, still cloaked, he took them both out. One of them punched the other on the way down and he chuckled. Five to go.   
They were firing bullets everywhere, unsure of Adam's position, so he flanked them, crouching behind one of the cars and pulling out his 10mm. He turned off his cloak to let his battery recharge and started firing clean, silenced headshots to the backs of their heads. He managed to take out three of them before the others actualized his position. Two to go. 

One of them rushed to the other side of the car and Adam grabbed him by the collar, swinging him up and around and over in one fluid motion, landing a blow to his head that was probably a bit too hard. The last Dvali gangster, realizing he was outmanned, tried to run for the back gate. Adam lined him up in the 10mm's sight. A flick of his trigger finger and they were done.   
Deciding what to do with bodies had never been his strong suit. Jensen piled the Dvali into one of the cars they had come in, some alive, some dead, and one with a head injury so bad it may as well be fatal. He left them there to figure out which was which and made his way back to his apartment. 

The door was left unlocked and Koller's scuffed red sneakers lay haphazardly between the plant and the coat rack. Koller sat at the kitchen island with his head in his hands, and hearing Adam come in the door he glanced up and groaned. "Shit, man, what am I supposed to do now? Things with Otar are worse than before and my front is destroyed." 

"You can-" Adam tried to interrupt, but Koller's head was tucked between his arms with his forehead rested on the counter.

"What good is an aug doctor with no shop?" He asked, muffled. "Useless, that's what."

"Koller-"

"There aren't even any LIMB clinics left. I'm going to starve. Or-or maybe Otar will come and finish me off-"

"Vaclav!"

Koller raised his head and something inside Adam crumbled at the expression on his face. He hated that face, the fear he had seen in the photo of him with Radich. Adam resolved not to raise his voice again. "You can stay here." His eye shields were still up, thankfully, so Vaclav couldn't see the earnestness on his face. 

The technician stared at Adam like a man playing poker, trying to decipher his hidden cards. "I wouldn't want you to go to the trouble," he said slowly, enunciating every word. 

"It's no trouble at all, Koller." The words rolled off his tongue easily, on some forgotten polite instinct. Adam realized, then, what he'd done. He had invited someone – not someone, Vaclav Koller, the least discreet person he knew – to crash on his couch. For an indefinite amount of time. While in the middle of an op – buried under another op. Somehow, though, the regret he expected to feel didn't come. He looked forward to sharing his space with another person, to his apartment feeling lived in when he came home. He didn't want to dwell on what that said about him, what crushing loneliness he must have felt to trigger this impulse towards cohabitaiton. 

Koller pretended to consider Jensen's offer, complete with tilting his head and looking around the space. But he held pure elation on his face and Adam's CASIE picked up on his increased heart rate. "You - you won't regret this, Jensen!" he assured, excited.

"I don't doubt it, Koller."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam gets all his ducks in a row.

Vaclav was beginning to become familiar with the lines and planes of Jensen’s face. Specifically, Adam’s eyes were becoming a point of extreme distraction. Not that Koller had anything much to be distracted _from. H_ e’d tinkered a bit with the watch components on the coffee table, but he spent most of his time reading novels and trying to figure out how to restore his shop. Though he had a steady stream of customers in his illicit business, his above-ground one was barely breaking even to begin with. He didn’t have a savings built up, and insurance agencies licensed in Prague had stopped renting to augs after the Incident. So there was no money to collect. The only method of income left for him was his shop, but fear of Otar’s men returning deterred him from taking customers at the moment. He didn’t even want to think about the fact that his regulars were left with less-than-safe methods of keeping their neuropozyne supply intact and getting repairs. 

So there was only one thing left for his restless mind to do, and that was to. Think about Jensen. It wasn’t hard; the man pretty much commanded attention, from that augmented body to that deep, gruff voice to those beautiful eyes of his. His _eyes_. They were bright, open when not concealed by his sunglasses. He was so often closed off, but two days into staying, Vaclav noticed that his eyes held all of his emotions. If Koller was awake and made coffee before Jensen emerged from his bedroom, his eyes softened and he raised an eyebrow in thanks. When Vaclav combined two parts of the watch that Adam previously had trouble with, his eyes hardened and his brows furrowed in determination before he sat down to work. Today, Adam approached him with something like decisiveness, maybe resolve, in his eyes, before sinking down onto the couch next to him. “Something needs to be done about Otar.”

Koller stared at him, dumbfounded. “What am I supposed to do about Otar, Jensen?”

Adam shook his head minutely. “I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about us, mostly me.”

“I can’t let you-“

Adam interrupted. “Come off it, Koller. I can hear your stress from across the room.” That was more or less true; the CASIE had let Adam know about his tense muscles, his tiredness, his blood pressure. “Besides, you can’t _let me_ do anything,” he smirked. “I’m offering.”

Václav rubbed his hand over his face. He knew Jensen was stubborn from his time in the shop, but he had no idea how mischievous the man could be. And he was sure Adam convinced himself that it was just his _healthy concern for others_. “What... what did you, have in mind?” he asked, more than a little apprehensive.

Adam shrugged, his lack of a clear plan concerning Vaclav. “I’ll get his word that he’ll leave you alone.” Jensen reached up to tap the side of his temple twice. “Social enhancer, remember?”

Koller shook his head wildly, his unease displayed on his face. “No, Jensen. You-you don’t understand. Otar has... _prejudice_ against Radich. He has _ambition_. Ambition that runs deeper than a social enhancer can reach.”

“Then I’ll convince him,” he stated. And _that fucking tone._ Adam’s voice held a note of finality that surprised even him, an authority that he was used to hearing from his SWAT commander or that he’d used with his Sarif subordinates. It sent shivers down Vaclav’s spine, and he leaned into it like a caress. But righteous anger replaced whatever weird reaction was currently happening, and he glared into Adam’s eyes. Some forgotten rebellious instinct flared itself in his chest. He surged forward, crowding Adam’s personal space. Adam leaned in as well, not backing down from a challenge.

“Going into Dvali territory is like swimming with the fucking sharks, man!” Adam raised his eyebrows.

“Nothing I haven’t done before.” Koller stilled for a moment. Jensen going into Dvali territory, augmented as he was, was asking for a death sentence. Knowing that he planned to do it a second time, Koller hardened his voice into steel.

“Sure, I need to go back to work, but not at the expense of _your_ _life_ , Jensen.” That rattled something in Adam. So much of his time in Prague was spent doing jobs for people who didn’t care if he lived or died; if they did, it was out of professional inconvenience for them. He was seen as dispensable, indestructible, but that was far from the truth. And knowing someone recognized that he could die just like anyone else, it made him feel… well, it made him feel human.

Koller was afraid he’d said something wrong, that he’d pushed too hard, when the gold eyes he was staring into softened and glanced down in a subtle show of surrender. Adam realized at once how close they were sitting and he cleared his throat in awkwardness, shifting to move away a few inches. He watched, amused, as Vaclav’s cheeks lit up red. When he spoke next, his voice was soft.

“We could… we could leak the photos. My face excluded,” he explained, fidgeting. “It might, bring Otar out of hiding at least.”

Adam stood, turning his back to the couch as he poured himself a second cup of coffee. He considered it. With Chang’s tech-savvy and K’s willingness to run into a furnace if it would get him a story, it just might work.

He turned back towards Koller and nodded in agreement before his Infolink sprang to life. There was that slight chatter of static before MacReady’s icon materialized on his HUD. “Jensen!”

Adam rolled his eyes and let them go out of focus to hone his attention on the conversation before answering. “Yes, MacReady?”

“Don’t ‘yes’ me, agent. We needed your report an hour ago at the briefing meeting. Where are you?”

“I got held up. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, you better. Also, Jensen, nine Dvali were found dead in the district where you live three days ago. I don’t suppose you’d know anything about it.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Mac. But I’ll be in.” Adam sighed as he shut off the communication and looked at Koller. “My... employers want to know why nine Dvali were found dead outside your bookshop.”

Koller stared back at Adam, dumbfounded. “Because, you killed them?”

“I only killed four of them.” He recalled the one he’d thrown over the car whose head hit the ground with a sickening crunch. “Maybe five,” he amended.

Koller’s eyes were wide. “Oh, shit. Who-who do you think finished them off, Jensen?”

Adam reached for his ACRNYM coat slung over the arm of the couch and shrugged it on. “That’s exactly what I’m going to find out.”

Peter Chang’s infamous anxious demeanor greeted him the second he walked in the door. “Hey Jensen, got your message. You needed my help with something?”

“Yeah, but it’s not exactly above board.” Saying nothing else, Adam strode in the direction of the stairs. The organized crime division was busy, so Adam led the way into the back corner of Chang’s open office.

“You’re starting to freak me out a little, Adam.”

“That’s not hard to do,” he pointed out.

Chang shrugged. “Better safe than detonated. What do you need?”

Adam shook his head, keeping his voice low but serious. “I’m going to leak something to Samizdat. But I need part of it blurred and inaccessible. To anyone.”

Chang’s face was incredulous but held traces of excitement. “And I don’t suppose I can ask what it is you’re sending to the conspiracy nuts?”

“The Dvali — one of them has ties to an aug. I have a personal stake in this, Chang. It’s not tied to TF29.”

“The Dvali?! You getting involved in crime boss business _is_ tied to TF29, Jensen. It’s dangerous.” Adam watched as realization dawned on his face. “That means you _do_ know something about those nine men that were killed!”

“Keep your voice down,” Adam tried to placate. “Listen, my aug doctor was threatened by them. If I have no doctor, I have no way to get repairs. The task force doctor isn’t exactly up to the job.”

“That doesn’t mean-“

“What it _means_ , is that if they find him, they are going to kill him, Chang.” He didn’t want to reflect too long on the pleading tone of his voice, or what it meant that he cared so much about what happened to Koller.

Peter was silent for a moment, then opened his computer. “What do you need me to take off?”

After convincing Chang to erase all metadata from the photo and remove any traces of Vaclav Koller, Adam called K from his office. He was greeted with a familiar scoff. “Samizdat is underground. I thought we weren’t using this channel anymore.”

Adam nearly smirked despite himself. “We aren’t. I’ve got some information you might want to have your hands on.”

“Is it Picus? Because that ship has sailed, man.”

“Radich Nikoladze is augmented.”

K spluttered for a second. “Do you have proof? Because that’s a big claim to make without it.”

“I’ll meet you in the sewers.”

“Not the sewers. We had to scatter after you found us. No offense or anything, but you’re still the feds. And the feds can’t know where Samizdat operates.”

“Alright, where?”

“33 Hlavni. The apartment where you found us last time.” The transmission was cut off, then, and Adam rubbed his temples.

“Stressed, agent?” A voice spoke up from behind him. He groaned inwardly. The list of people he had to talk to was getting way too long way too early in the morning.

“Not at all, MacReady. What is it?”

“And here I thought you’d be happy to see me. We need to go over this Dvali timeline.”

Adam stiffened. “Dvali? Since when are we organized crime?”

“Since Agent Black went off the grid. Normally this wouldn’t be handled by us, but the number of men that were found mandates that we look into it by some terror laws or other.” MacReady didn’t sound too excited about the prospect, but he seemingly had no choice. “So it would be helpful if you’d meet me in the briefing room.” He turned to gather his files.

“Actually-“

“What is it, Jensen?”

“You heard anything about the Dvali lately?” Adam stood and flexed his jaw as he spoke. The CASIE sent data to his HUD, noting MacReady’s own change in posture. Adam triggered a small release of pheromones.

MacReady flushed slightly, but that was the only giveaway that it was working. “I suppose you’ll find out in the briefing, which I have to do twice now because you didn’t bother to show up this morning.” The subtle changes in his voice tonality gave Adam the in he needed.

“Hear about those rumors that Radich Nikoladze is augmented?”

MacReady scoffed. “Please, Jensen. I may not be an expert, but I know the Dvali don’t like augs. We’re alike in that respect.”

Adam rolled his eyes behind the shields. “All I’m saying is that if he is, it makes it much easier for us to find him.”

“Oh really? Enlighten me as to how that is.”

“We don’t know where he is. But if news gets out that he’s augmented, his people might be willing to give him up.” One more rush of pheromones and Mac tugged at his collar.

“Is it hot in here? Never mind. What are you talking about? We already know where he is. There just isn’t any reason to get involved yet. I’ll see you in the briefing room.”

Adam watched MacReady exit the office and waited until the HUD displayed him near the stairs to log onto his commander’s computer. He had acquired Mac’s password from the IT office downstairs, so he logged in easily. There sat emails full of new intelligence from the agents who’d been sent to locate Vince Black. While Vince hadn’t been found yet, there was an address on the outskirts of Prague registered to a Radimir Novikov; the same initials as Radich Nikoladze. Jensen logged the information and made his way to the briefing room.

It wasn’t as bad as he’d anticipated; none of the agents were too excited to get involved. When they went over the evidence and ruled out terror as a motive, it was sent back to Prague’s police underneath their jurisdiction. The crime scene differences were telling, though. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make the scene look more brutal than Adam had left it. Seven of the Dvali were found inside the shop, some missing limbs in a gross approximation of augmentations. Two hadn’t been found until a day later, thrown down the manhole towards the back door of the shop. The door hadn’t been opened. Kamil’s body was found there as well, and everyone deduced he had suffered flashbacks to the Incident before murdering the Dvali. The agents couldn’t figure why they had been in the poor district to begin with, but that was for local police to work out.

Chang beckoned Jensen back to his office before he could slip out. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Adam.” He handed him a pocket secretary with the photo on it.

“Me too, Chang. Thanks. I owe you one.”

When Adam arrived at the apartment where he was supposed to meet K, the door was unlocked. There was a note stapled there that read, “Gone for lunch. Be back soon!” It was nearing evening now.

He stepped into the apartment warily. The lighting was dim, the apartment seeming trashed. But there were no signs of struggle. Adam activated his MAGPIE implants. Inset into the wall behind the refrigerator was a safe that hadn’t been there before. He pulled a multi-tool from his coat pocket and unlocked it. There was another note inside. “If you’re reading this, please leave the information you have in the safe. K will contact you.”

A single dot appeared behind him on his HUD. “Was this necessary, K?”

“I had to make sure, man! Ever since the Picus incident, we’ve been in hot water with all kinds of fake contacts that served as traps. You’re the first one who’s actually followed through.”

“Well I have the proof you asked for.” Adam pulled out the pocket secretary and handed it to K. He opened it and his eyes widened before he shoved it deep into his pocket.

“Alright, well, thanks. Being a Dvali target is almost worth it for this story.”

“Will you be alright, K?”

“Yeah, man, Samizdat is tough,” he said with a dismissive wave. “We’ve been in hiding before.”

The address he’d lifted from MacReady’s computer sat east near Ruzicka station, so Adam took the train line Chang had hacked for him, surprised that the line was still open. The crowd on the evening commute thinned out towards the station, and Adam was the last person onboard once he stepped out at Ruzicka.

It was an unassuming little apartment building nestled in a courtyard between two giant trees that looked close to caving in on each other. The area was unkempt, neglected. It looked almost worse than the Prekazka district, but there was one difference. A neighborhood like this should have been teeming with a homeless, starved, angry population, but this street was glaringly devoid of people. Adam activated the MAGPIE, just in case, and paid close attention to his HUD, but there was nothing.

The apartment building was almost as inconclusive. There were normal signs of life scattered around, as if the whole building had been forced to leave in the middle of the day. Adam was so concerned with the strangeness of it all that he almost missed the switch underneath the kitchen counter in the upstairs apartment.

A picture frame on the opposite wall slid open to reveal a hidden terminal. Adam hacked it in no time at all, coming face to face with a door that led to a descending set of stairs. On his way down, an Infolink call came through from Koller.

“Jensen, are you alright? You-you haven’t come back, and I was starting to worry…”

“I’m fine, Koller,” Adam replied, as low as he dared. He sighed, conflicted with the relief of hearing Vaclav’s voice but knowing that losing focus could mean getting caught – or worse. “I’m just…in the field.” Koller didn’t know exactly who Adam worked with, but he figured the government aspect was obvious, so he hoped he hadn’t disclosed too much.

“Just be careful, Adam,” he pleaded. Jensen froze on the last step, sucking in a breath at the breathy way Vaclav said his name.

“I’ll come back,” he promised, before stepping into the darkness of the basement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Needless to say this chapter was overdue.
> 
> What do you guys think about the characters' voices? Sometimes I have to go and watch gameplay to make sure I'm capturing them correctly. Jarek/K was surprisingly really hard. He kept bleeding into Koller. They both have that youthful excited talk vibe coming from them, and they both take weird pauses in their speech, and they both use "man" as a filler word. 
> 
> Do you guys think Adam's starting to realize how he feels about Vaclav? Slow burn is slow. :( On the bright side, my outline of the story doesn't say that they ~can't~ make out in the next chapter, so we'll see what happens.
> 
> All feedback is welcome! Seeya


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The "Dvali die mercilessly" tag really lives up to itself in this one. Lots of sneaking too, a budding friendship, and maybe even a kiss.

There was little in the way of space in the basement, seeing as every corner was piled high with technological clutter. Some of the objects Adam couldn’t make heads or tails of, frayed wires poking out of rusted mechanical components of various shapes and sizes. There were glass e-readers scattered around the space, but Adam had no time for reading if this was the setup for an ambush as he expected. The ceilings were low, making it so he had to almost hunch over to creep around. A back corner of the space was sectioned off by wooden beams. He figured that was where the valuables were stored, and clocked a terminal next to the door on the far wall.

There were more layers to this place than he knew.

Stepping around a cardboard box, the operative stopped short when he noticed a wall of blue rays of light. EMP lasers. He stepped back slightly and extended his left arm, triggering the remote hacking implant. Lasers were the easiest to deactivate, with the widest ranges of code. Once they had been disabled, he made his way to the terminal. A multi-tool was the easiest method of access, so Adam procured one from his jacket and held it up to the device.

 _Green means good_ , that Pritchard-sounding voice in his head snarked again, but he paid no attention to it. He pushed down on the door handle lightly before nudging it open, keeping his guard up.

He entered the second room and spun around, vaguely disoriented. The room had been designed to look smaller on the outside; inside, optical illusion of the floors and walls being the same featureless gray made it seem to expand the length of a warehouse. There were objects down here as well, most of them in much better conditions than the ones upstairs. Some of them even sat on pedestals with lighting coming from somewhere overhead, as if in a museum display.

Adam walked the length of the basement – no, _bunker_ – peering at some of the artifacts. Some he was vaguely familiar with; a pair of ruby red slippers from an old movie of the last century or so, a large painting from an artist he had heard of but couldn’t put his finger on. But the others downright frightened him.

On one of the pedestals sat a cybernetic limb made entirely of crystal. He’d seen this particular installation in Sarif’s office before it had been removed and replaced by other art. It was intended to be a life-size sculpture of the first cybernetic limb to hit the general market, constructed out of crystal because it was the only material that would show all the facets and details of real augmentations. It was also gorgeous. One detail was different, though; the first finger had been removed, a small hole drilled into the hand where the slot for a memory card rested. Sarif had been the proud owner of that piece, apparently for more reasons than one. Who was the owner now?

Unnerved by the reminder of his Sarif days, Adam continued along the narrow path in between the artifacts until one caught his eye. It was an exo-skeleton, a spinal cord replacement constructed mostly out of metal. Above it hung a cloth. Adam stepped closer, and immediately stepped back.

The cloth was meant to cover half a face, and then wrap around the rest of the wearer’s head and shoulders. White strips hung across the front of the covering like bandages, while the sides curved inwards to cover the chest before fanning back out in an approximation of hips. He recognized it instantly: Helle’s clothing from Panchaea.

At the end of the room, a figure sat in a chair facing Adam. Watching the operative stalk towards him, he crossed one knee over the other leisurely. His chin was tilted up haughtily, beaklike nose on display. He appeared to be unarmed, save a smile on his face that revealed sharp, yellowing teeth. Radich looked exhausted, unassuming – but Adam knew better. He was frightening, and by what Adam had seen in the bunker, obviously knew more than he let on.

“Welcome, Mister…”

“Jensen.” Adam was wary of Radich, but he was practical; there were little outward threats, and he knew the only way out was the way he had come in.

“Mister Jensen. Welcome to my museum. I trust you had your fun poking around in my property?”

Adam made a show of peering around the room. “Your property? I see a lot of things in here that don’t belong to you.”

“They do now,” Radich drawled. His accent thickened as he spoke. “Tell me, if you can. What do our friends at the top of the world have in common?”

Adam blanked. _Our friends at the top of the world._ Was Radich Nikoladze involved with the Illuminati?

“Don’t think too hard; it’s an obvious answer. They have secrets. They all have stakes in things that you and I can only imagine, intimate knowledge of unfathomable truths. But I _deal_ in secrets, Mr. Jensen. You think I’d operate in international smuggling without some insurance?” He spread his arms wide, gesturing to the artifacts, to punctuate his point. And he was right; the Illuminati had their hands, eyes, and ears everywhere. It paid to have worked out some pieces of the puzzle. In such a high position, it must be useful to have collateral.

Adam remained quiet. Radich was looking for an audience, and Jensen was more than happy to provide that while he looked for an in.

“I have interest in staying alive, and my collection of secrets ensures that there are others who share that interest.”

Without warning, Radich sprang from his chair, smashing a button underneath the desk. Suddenly an EMP field scorched Adam’s vision, momentarily disabling his augmentations. He dropped to the ground and rolled behind a crate for cover. Bullets whizzed over his head in spurts. A machine gun, he figured; quick to fire but slow to reload. There was a three second pause. Adam’s augs took advantage of the respite to reboot.

There was a loud shuffle and a hail of bullets in the direction of his hiding place from the north end of the room; the asshole was trying to flank him, to escape. He rolled his shoulders and activated his glass shield. Energy levels be damned, it was the best way to get the angle on enemies. And he had more than enough biocells to spare.

Radich wasn’t heavily augmented, from what Adam had seen only his left arm held any modifications. It made sense; anything else would be too easy to spot. Still, it was likely out of necessity, Adam reasoned. Why else would a Dvali boss augment himself? So Adam threw an EMP grenade in Radich’s general direction and made for the stairs, intending to ambush him when he tried to make his way out.

The crime boss scrambled for the stairs too, right hand stretching out as he lunged for the wooden beams, before Adam wrenched his shoulder backwards. His augmented arm was not as quick to reboot as Adam’s systems, and it hung limply at his side.

“If you kill me, my secrets will get out,” Radich breathed. His chest was heaving, beads of sweat showing at his forehead. The EMP must have done more damage than Adam realized. “You will have made enemies of the most powerful people in the world.”

Adam pulled him forward by his collar and extended the nanoblade in his other arm, pressing it close to Radich’s face. “Good thing I’m already on their radar,” he said, and released him with such sudden force that the Dvali boss staggered back. In a desperate, last-ditch effort, Radich swung his now-functional arm towards Adam’s face, the small red light of a miniature laser cannon glinting right into his eyes. He was going to have a serious talk with Koller about the kinds of enhancements he was allowed to work on for dangerous people – it would be hypocritical though, he supposed.

Adam, in a split-second decision, activated his TITAN aug. Usually he avoided it because of the flashiness and exorbitant energy usage, but it was nice for intimidating enemies. Radich faltered, stunned, and Jensen took advantage of his hesitation. He swung his arm back minutely and threw a left hook at Nikoladze, opening his arm and extending the nanoblade at the last second. The sharp edge swiped across Radich’s face, opening a wide and bloody gash across his cheek. As the other man spun from the impact, Adam caught him with the blade in his right arm. The nanoblade pierced Radich’s chest with a sickening crunch. The crime boss’ eyes locked on his, wide and pained. A small groan slipped from his lips as Adam pulled his arm back, the nanoblade exiting his body. Radich fell forward slowly, crumpling into a heap on the ground.

Adam cleaned his nanoblades on the leg of his pants before flexing the muscles that commanded them back into the mechanisms of his arms. He gave the bunker a once-over on autopilot, ensuring that he hadn’t left any trace of his involvement in Radich’s death. Limbs heavy, he ascended the stairs, considering the consequences of what he’d just done. TF29 was going to have a field day with this; MacReady might figure it out, but there would be no proof.

Here was hoping the pheromones had a nullifying effect on any suspicion he might have.

Adam threw that into the section of his brain reserved for things to deal with later and settled into his seat on the train back to Prekazka. He was okay – physically at least. The EMP malfunctioning had ceased, but the reminder of Eliza and Hyron had shaken him. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, thought about the last time he’d spoken to her. He missed her – if one could miss an AI – and there was no comfort in the knowledge that he had no way of contacting her.

Eventually the train pulled into the Prekazka station and Adam made his way to his apartment. The lights were off, shutters closed and security system active when he returned. He assumed Vaclav would be hunched over one of his glass readers, but approaching the couch Adam found that the doctor had curled in on himself and fallen asleep.

Before Adam could shake Vaclav awake, his eyes landed on the Samizdat paper open on the coffee table. The photo was in plain view, Vaclav’s form completely blurred to the point where Adam couldn’t even tell it was an aug doctor. Only the light from the blowtorch and Radich’s arm, clearly sporting wires and polymer muscles, gave it away.

The technician shivered on the couch, trying to curl himself into a tighter ball. Adam activated his leg silencers and moved closer to the couch, watched Vaclav shift and hum when he reached a comfortable position. Adam felt bad, but he didn’t want to move his doctor and risk waking him; it was obvious sleep didn’t come easy or often. So he rolled his shoulders and let his coat fall off his body. Ignoring the blood spatter from his altercation with Radich, he draped it over Vaclav’s sleeping form.

He immediately curled into the coat, arms snaking into the thick fabric and the neck of it falling just below his chin. He breathed in deep, appreciating the warmth and the smell. Adam caught a small smile on his own face before he ghosted into his bedroom to sleep.

It was the smell of freshly brewed coffee that called him back to the land of the living the next morning. Adam rounded the corner into the living area and froze. Vaclav was wearing his coat. _Vaclav was wearing his coat_ , and it fell so long on him that it stopped just short of sweeping the ground. He held a mug in his soldering hand and scrubbed tiredly at his face with the other. Hearing the soft click of Adam’s bare feet on the wooden flooring, he turned, and Adam nearly spun on his heel and marched back to bed. Vaclav’s shirt was unbuttoned, dark hair curling sparse around his chest and extending in a thin line towards his navel. Adam couldn’t tear his eyes away fromit, and he had to resist the temptation of activating his shades to hide the ogling.

“Morning, sunshine,” Vaclav gave a small wave and turned back to the counter, refilling his coffee mug and pouring one out for Adam.

Adam just nodded, not quite trusting his voice. He watched Vaclav yawn, lean against the counter and pull the borrowed coat tighter around himself. He blinked.

“Good day to get some work done, huh?” Vaclav tried again, holding the mug out for Adam to take. He frowned when Adam took the mug wordlessly. Suddenly he was close, not in Adam’s space but if he reached out and _touched_ -

“Jensen? You okay in there?” He peered into the agent’s eyes, trying to gauge his mood, see if something might be wrong.

 _Oh, to hell with it_. Adam surged forward, sending the mug toppling onto the counter. Adam ignored the coffee spilling onto the marble surface, pressing his lips to Vaclav’s. The soft, wild hair framing the edge of his face swept Jensen’s forehead in wisps. His lips were chapped from the cold, wet from the coffee, but his waist was soft when alloy hands crept into the coat to hold him steady.

Vaclav kissed back with force, with fire, and when he sighed into Adam’s mouth the smell, the _taste_ , of the coffee came along with it. Vaclav broke the kiss, backing up and bracing his hands on the counter before jumping up.

“I fucking knew it.”

Adam just smirked, stalking forward to kiss him again, before his Infolink rang. He froze and sighed, looking apologetically at Vaclav. “Jensen.”

“Jensen, we need your help, mate!” MacReady whispered over the line. Adam heard people yelling in the background. He activated his HUD and bent to lace his boots.

“Where are you?”

“The Dvali theater - fuck. It was supposed to be recon,” he explained. “Someone sent the news that Radich Nikoladze was found dead this morning.” There was a yell of triumph, and a small explosion. “They started rioting. We need to get inside.”

“Shit,” Adam swore. He should have known the leak wouldn’t go well. He wasted no time in pulling a sniper rifle and Otar’s revolver from his wall safe, tucking them into their respective holsters. “How many of you?”

“Three.” Adam swore again. “Just get here!” The call ended.

Vaclav’s eyes were wide, the sense of urgency bleeding into him too. “Did you want-“ he started to shrug off the coat, and Adam shook his head, placing his hand on Vaclav’s cheek to still him.

He looked into the technician’s eyes, honey brown and red-rimmed. “I’ll be back.”

The metro couldn’t move fast enough; Adam was antsy as the train slid through Prague, bound for Pilgrim station. He went over possible entry points. The apartments, likely a hiding place or stronghold for the Dvali; it would take time to get through. The sewers were another option, but who knew the kind of technological security they would have activated since the last time he had infiltrated Dvali territory. That left the front door; direct, quick, relatively safe if his glass cloak could keep up. He’d clear a path for the other agents, deal with Otar himself. If he took comfort in knowing Vaclav was at home, bundled up in his coat, he wouldn’t admit it.

When he glided through the archway of the Red Light District he pinged MacReady. All he received in return was a location. They were still hiding, then, but safe.

The door that led into Dvali territory was unmanned and open, which was the first sign that things weren’t quite right. Adam entered the narrow hallway and rounded the corner, nearly choking if not for his rebreather. The entryway had been gassed heavily, the smoke so thick he activated his MAGPIE implant to see. There were no bodies, yet; he chose to take that as a good sign.

He had spoken too soon. When the hallway opened up to the courtyard, soot assaulted his lungs. The few cars scattered in the space had been burnt to husks, blackened and smoking, one upended and lying on its side. Blood was spattered on the cobblestone everywhere.

He crouched, quiet as death, and made his way to the window on the side of the theater. He passed a pile of charred… something, wincing when he realized the husks were bodies that had been piled up underneath the awning. Adam focused his hearing and realized one of them was still breathing, wheezing through a crushed lung.

He propped the man against a column and asked him, low and quick, “What happened?”

The thug was barely lucid, his eyes glassy, but he still had time for prejudice. “ _Idi na hui_. I do not answer _aug_.”

 _I don’t have time for this,_ Adam thought. He rolled his eyes and slammed his palm against the man’s ribcage. The thug doubled over in pain, groaning much too loud for the agent’s liking. “I said, what happened.”

He coughed, voice rasping. “Okay, okay, _uyobok_ , I answer! They murder Radich! And Otar makes his power move.” He tried to sit up, wheezing in pain when the exertion was too much. “We try to stand up to Otar, but there are too many on his side.” The nonsensical recount filled in the blanks of MacReady’s explanation, but there was one concerning aspect.

“What do you mean, on his side?” Adam asked, but it was too late. The thug’s eyes had gone out of focus and the wheezing had stopped.

MacReady’s location put the three agents on the roof of the theater, so Adam activated his Klipspringer boost and pushed off the ground, catching onto the awning of the theater. He jumped again, grabbing the edge of the roof and pulling himself up, activating his leg silencers at the same time. His HUD displayed what was left of the Dvali in the theater below, but he needed to focus on getting the other agents out first.

Johnson and Halliday were hunkered underneath the dead camera, backs to the wall. MacReady crouched nearby, seemingly in a heated conversation with someone over i-LiNK. Halliday saw him first and started, rousing Johnson, before realizing that it was Adam. He maybe should’ve announced his presence rather than standing there, an intimidating black-clad figure against the glare of the sun. Mac spotted him last and deadened the Infolink connection before stepping over to Jensen.

“Took you long enough,” he said, but Adam understood the relief behind his voice. _Thanks for coming_.

“Sitrep?”

“Otar fucking Botkoveli. When Nikoladze was found, we figured there would be some foul play in the works. Boss man decided to call in every Dvali he could. They turned on each other, mate. And we’ve got the order to bring Otar in. _Priority_ order.” He waved his hand up at the sky. “We’ve been trying to get an air scan, but state police are mucking around with the jammers.”

Adam took a step back, activating his MAGPIE to scan the inside of the theater below them. There were entirely too many warm bodies, too many for any clear visual. He returned his vision to normal. “My _priority_ is getting you out. The path is clear. Let’s go.”

Johnson and Halliday immediately protested, but Mac just looked at him and cocked his head. “If we go, then you’re coming with us, mate.”

Adam shook his head, impatient. “I can finish it from here.”

“Not without me, you’re not.” He shooed the other two agents towards the edge of the roof. “Get back to headquarters. Give us support from there.”

“Sir-“

“That’s an order, Halliday.”

Seeing no way around it, the agents climbed down onto the awning, dropping to the ground with significantly less grace than their coworker had climbed up with. Once they were safely in the hallway and headed back to the Red Light District, Adam turned back to MacReady and sighed. “I planned on dropping down this way,” he said, gesturing towards the skylight that overlooked the theater. “But if you’re planning on coming in…”

“Just because I don’t have fancy augs doesn’t mean I’m not a damn good agent, Jensen. Find another entry point.”

Adam circled the roof, clocking a ledge with a weak wall. He could probably punch his way through, find the stairs. The only problem was the noise. He didn’t like being spotted, but cloaking wasn’t an option with MacReady in the line of fire, so direct entry just might have to do.

Worst-case scenario he’d hide them, wait for the Dvali to think they’d run off, then strike when their defenses were down.

He beckoned Mac towards the ledge and reared back, sparks firing in his arm as he punched a hole clean through the wall. He vaulted over the newly-created ledge, feeling the rock crumble under his hands. Mac climbed through after him, raising an eyebrow once he was steady on his feet. He would’ve thought the other man was impressed if he didn’t know better.

The small crash didn’t seem to have drawn any guards. That was either a good thing or a very, very bad one; it meant they were so concentrated downstairs that the two agents could more or less move freely on the upper levels. Adam’s first priority was finding a security computer to kill the cameras and alarm panels; the element of surprise was their best weapon, and he was intending to use it.

The sneaking went along uneventful, for the first few moments at least. Mac was unused to dodging security. Adam supposed it made sense for an agent of the law, but it made his job much harder. Making their way up the stairs towards a balcony, a camera swung their way, almost too quick for them to clock it. Jensen pulled MacReady into an alcove at the last moment, disabling the camera momentarily with a flick of his wrist. A small sense of satisfaction surged through him when the agent snarked, “Do they sell those for naturals?” MacReady _was_ impressed, Adam realized this time. It was nice.

When they finally reached the highest balcony, they crouched together at the railing. Adam looked down and was finally able to get a clear visual on the amount of Dvali they were dealing with.

It wasn’t a comforting number. Nearly all of the chairs had been taken up. In the corner lounge areas, Dvali men conversed with girls in significantly less clothing. There wasn’t time for a full headcount, but he guessed he was up against a hundred guys. He wasn’t too thrilled about the odds.

And neither was Mac. When he looked down, his eyes widened minutely in shock, before he schooled his expression and glanced back at Adam. “Botkoveli is supposed to make an appearance. What do you reckon the occasion is?”

“We don’t need to stick around to find out.” He turned and vaulted over the balcony, staying crouched as he made his way towards the security room. Having no time for hacking, he pulled out a multi-tool and held it up to the computer until it flashed green. He pulled up the camera feed and disabled every camera in the theater, choosing to leave the robot and lasers activated. If someone noticed they were malfunctioning, the first thing they’d do was reset all the security, and then the cameras might catch them.

His secondary objective complete, he moved on to the final one: locating Otar. He didn’t have a plan beyond that, especially with Mac as witness. Adam resolved to follow through with his intentions, though. He had a compelling reason to do so at his apartment waiting for him, consequences be damned.

MacReady, on the other hand, was in over his head, not that he’d be disclosing that fact. As he and Adam moved through the theater, he realized why Miller had gone so frequently over his head, bypassing his authority and going straight to Jensen. He was a one-man army, an augmented tank, but he could also slip in and out. You’d never know he was there.

He’d always been wary of Adam. Give a man a gun and he’ll take over the world. Give a man military-grade augmentations, and you never know what he’ll do. Mac was uneasy with that unknown, but Jensen seemed to thrive in it. He defied expectations and handled Mac’s prejudice in strides, and not for the first time Duncan thought that he might want to lighten up on the bullying a little.

But not right now; at the moment, Adam was leading him through Dvali territory with not one alarm raised, and that in itself was a little impressive. They finally reached the basement where the boss’ office had to be, and Jensen crept along the wall, sticking to the shadows. Mac followed suit as they both inched slowly towards the corner.

He watched as Adam clocked the four men sitting around a card table and, with a flick of that augmented wrist of his, sent electricity beams shooting towards each figure. Within seconds they were all incapacitated, drooling on the basement floor. Adam didn’t spare them a glance, circling the staircase and coming to stand outside a door that led to the crime boss’ office.

Mac took the other side of the door and they dug in, positioned to wait. He took one look at Jensen and amended that assumption; Adam was positioned to strike, a huge, glorious revolver with a brown leather scope sitting in his hand. The augmented operative chanced a peek around the corner, and came back with a frown at what he saw. He looked at Mac and tilted his head towards the door, raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Mac nodded and Jensen, moving with the efficiency of a machine, body checked the door.

Adam breached the room, revolver at the ready. Mac was at his six, and he found he felt comfortable knowing someone was watching his back, even if that person was Duncan MacReady.

Otar sat at the desk, looking for the first time just as snakelike as his predecessor. He smiled. “Gentlemen. This was an unexpected visit, but it’s nice to finally meet the man who’s been meddling behind the scenes of my operation.”

“ _Your_ operation?” Mac butted in. Otar cut his eyes to the TF29 operative, but finding that he wasn’t enough of a threat, set them back on Adam.

“Yes, it seems that Mr. Nikoladze has befallen an… unfortunate accident. I plan to take his place.”

Adam stepped forward, subtly activating his MAGPIE implant to scan the room. “And what about the people who don’t agree with this sudden change in leadership? You leave them to die like the men outside?” He scanned the room, noting nothing but a pistol in Otar’s hand – and a panic button under the desk. One twitch and the hundred Dvali agents upstairs would be on them in a matter of seconds. This complicated things.

Otar waved his free hand dismissively. “The ones who don’t like it? They will figure out quickly where their disagreement gets them. You, on the other hand, will figure it out now.” Through his MAGPIE, Adam watched Otar press the button. He lunged to protect Mac first as Otar raised the pistol and fired two shots blindly. The bullets pinged off Adam’s dermal armor and ricocheted into the wall. A deafening alarm sounded, bathing the room in a red glow. The sound pierced their eardrums, sending them to the ground. Adam landed on top of Mac, both of them clawing at their ears, trying to get rid of the sound.

But if they were down, so was Otar.

Adam fought through the pain, clenching his jaw as he pulled up his HUD as quickly as he dared and disabled his audial implants. He was disoriented momentarily as he went deaf, but his other senses filled in the gaps. It gave him a focus, a clarity. Something he’d been sorely lacking in the mission up to this point.

When he circled the desk, Otar lay sprawled beneath it, clutching his ears as well, eyes squeezed shut against the pain. They flew open when Adam seized his shirt collar, yanking him up with such force it created small rips in the fabric.

As he pulled Otar to his feet, Adam noted that his HUD was quickly becoming overwhelmed with dots, each of them representing a Dvali gangster. They were gathered on the floor directly above him, searching methodically; he had little time.

Adam looked into the crime boss’ eyes and pulled him close.Here, there was none of the flashiness of Nikoladze’s death; he deserved nothing so dramatic. Adam simply brought his right arm up to Otar’s throat and clenched his fist, the nanoblade extending and piercing its way through the side of his neck. He couldn’t hear the flesh tearing, the blood spurting from Botkoveli’s throat, but he could see the fear in his eyes, going glassy and dead as he released him.

As Otar’s body hit the floor with a heavy thud that Adam felt rather than heard, MacReady came stumbling towards him, working through the shrill pain of the alarm. “We’ve got to shut off this damn racket,” he yelled. Adam read his lips and nodded towards the adjacent room, planning to hunker down until they could find a way out. Mac entered first, combat rifle up. To Adam’s surprise, he pulled out a multi-tool to hack the security computer. Within seconds the alarm stopped, and Adam reenabled his audial implants.

“What’s the plan, boss?” Adam asked, devoid of his usual snark when it came to MacReady.

“Oh _now_ you’d like to defer to me?” Mac replied, incredulous.

“There’s a small army coming to murder us, so yeah.”

“C.O. always gets the blame,” Mac muttered. But he pointed to the computer screen. “I’ve got this door open. If we can get there without getting fucking shot, we might have a way out.”

Adam wrenched open the door to the adjacent room that looked out into the hallway. There were men there already, waking up the four that he’d taken out earlier. But they hadn’t discovered Otar’s body yet. When they did, everything would go to hell.

“No time,” he whispered, and watched out of the corner of his eye as one of the gangsters entered Otar’s office. Mac looked up at him, wide-eyed. He gave the computer one last glance and, praying that the Icarus would be able to handle two full-sized men at once, beckoned for Mac to follow. The two men crouched into the hallway, as quietly and quickly as they dared.

When they reached the blast door, Adam gave no warning at all before gathering MacReady into his arms. His C.O. yelped in protest, and was cut off by the stomach-dropping sensation of Adam stepping off the ledge, into the dark abyss below the theater.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This thing was a MONSTER. I mean that. I knew what needed to happen, but getting there was. not. easy. I think it turned out alright, though. As always, I welcome comments and feedback!! 
> 
> Find me on tumblr @atlasshaking <3

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to be frank with you guys. This is my first published Deus Ex fic. (Hi Adam Jensen fandom!) This is also my first published fic in years. Hell, the first written work I've put effort into at all, in years.  
> I'm going to try SO HARD to be consistent with the updates (we are in quarantine, after all) but I also only have a rough outline of how I want this to go. So bear with me. I wasn't going to publish this yet, but I'm on my third rewrite and I'm driving myself crazy, so I said fuck it!  
> I'm going to set the amount of chapters at 4 but that's just a rough estimate. I hope you guys enjoyed this, and please leave a comment either way.


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